Introversion, Memory, and Why I Prefer to Travel Alone

I’ve been traveling alone since I jetted off to South Korea by my 21 year old self to teach English even though I’d only ever traveled on study abroad/school trips before. My thinking? If you can learn to get by in a country where you don’t speak a word of the language, in a city where no one speaks a word of English, then you can travel alone most anywhere. Since then, I’ve been to 17 countries on my own. The most frequent question people ask me when I mention this (after “is that safe?”, which will be addressed later in this blog) is “don’t you get lonely?” The answer to that is as simple as one word, but with a complicated explanation.

“No”.

Here’s why.

I’m an introvert. I always have been, and I’m quite sure I always will be. I enjoy a small, tight-knit group of friends, but I don’t enjoy crowds or meeting strangers. I don’t get energy from going to a party; I get it from hiking in the woods with only my thoughts for company. Which isn’t to say I won’t go to a party. I might if someone has tricked me into being there, but I’m going to single out people for one-on-one, meaningful conversations (no small talk, please) then I’m going to go home and rest up. Chances are it will be at least a month before my energy is restored enough for another party.

But more importantly, I’ve noticed that my strong introversion is seemingly firmly tied to my memory. I’ve taken trips with other people, namely boyfriends and family. Yet I don’t remember those trips even a tenth as well as I remember the trips I’ve gone on by myself. I went to Niagara Falls with a wonderful ex whom I considered marrying. I know this because I have pictures and some vague memories of a speed boat and the mist on my face. I went to Arizona with my family once. It was my first time really traveling beyond the East Coast, so it should have made an impression. At least the Grand Canyon should have! It didn’t. Yet when I think back to exploring Paris on my own or kayaking solo around Glacier National Park (pictured above), I can remember every smell, sight, and sound. I can almost recreate those walks and paddles in my head step by step, stroke by stroke. To me, it all comes back to introversion.

When I travel with another person, no matter how comfortable I am with him or her or how great their company, my mental energy is focused on paying attention to that person. What are they saying? Are they having a good time? Does their body language say this 8 hour hike is too long? What will they want to do next? It’s a trait common among introverts; when we’re around others, we’re very sensitive to them. That’s why we expend a lot of energy in social interactions. When we’re alone, we’re recharging. For me, that means I’ll stop to notice every detail because it’s in noting those details that my brain focuses. If instead of focusing on another person’s wants, I’m focusing on the sound of the lake around my kayak, I’m going to remember that sound for years, whereas I won’t remember worrying about what my boyfriend will want for dinner. Maybe this explains why I barely remember Christmas dinner with a huge group of travelers in Paris, but I remember every detail of the graffiti I saw strolling the streets by myself. My focus is undivided when I’m alone and, for an introvert, that means my memory retains what I experience solo.

So to all the people who’ve tried to subtly invite themselves along on my trips (former new boyfriends, I’m looking at you), I’m sorry. It’s not you — it’s me. If I’m going to travel, I do so because I want to form a kick-ass memory that I can hold on to until my deathbed, and it’s just not going to be as sharp if you’re in it. By hey, if you’re out the there Mr. or Ms. Right, I’m doing the leg-work of figuring out the best spots for our future vacations!